


my fate is worse than death (its falling for you)

by apocalypticTaco



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Pining, a lot of fluff. tbh thats all i can write, dumb arguments, rated t for a little bit of blood and also the fuck word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:09:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21672007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apocalypticTaco/pseuds/apocalypticTaco
Summary: Everything looks as it should be. Honeycombs lining the walls, bees flitting to and fro from their egotistical abode. A single table in the center of it all framed by two worn beanbags wearing holes onto the floor, with wires tangled across it because a certainsomeonedoesn't know how to organize in ways other than couplets.But on the corner of the table, there's a shining streak of blood that reminds you how much you don't belong in this world.-(If we want the rewards of being loved, we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.)
Relationships: Sollux Captor/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 18
Kudos: 133





	my fate is worse than death (its falling for you)

You ignorant, insipid little bitch.

Yeah, that's right. You are the dumbass mutantblood who had the audacity to live, and if that wasn’t enough, the stupidity to reveal yourself in the shittiest way possible.

After everything you've done. With all the precautions you've taken and held dear like they were the key to your survival- _because they were, shitpan!-_ and your hours upon hours of training, sneaking around corridors and hiding, hoping for the chance to glimpse the moonlight for one more night.

Although, honestly, you were pretty shit at it all. Being raised by a aural-destroying crustacean for a lusus isn't exactly the best prerequisite to learning how to be silent and invincible. 

You _were_ good at observation, though. You couldn't hide yourself enough to be unnoticeable, but as a shitty compensation from the croaking universe, you always had a knack for parsing out what everyone was feeling, which then extends to finding who would be the type to _not_ kill you upon glancing your gray sign.

Well, some fucking observation knack _that_ was.

_Shit. Ow._ You squeeze your hand tighte- _OW,_ **_FUCK_ **\- okay, so that's probably not the best way to treat your bleeding hand right now.

Hah. Bleeding. 

It wasn't even that deep of a scratch. Just an accidental slice from the table corner, right in the spot where your skin is thinnest. The small trickling stream screams a scarlet alarm for all of Alternia to jeer. Fuck, you're getting it on the floor.

Sollux's floor.

Oh fuck, _Sollux._

He _saw._ The two fucking eternal seconds of staring before silently turning around and leaving the room with a sigh. Shit. _Shit._

What does he think of you now? 

You were just about to play a video game. If all things went well, you'd have the chance to rub into his face how much he fucking sucked at Troll Mario Vehicular Obliteration, and then he would predictably counter you by pointing out that he's won every game before that, and you would get into a shitty slapfight for wrigglers who cry and shit their pants, and then you would both laugh it off and enter a good two minutes of solace.

If it got too late, you already brought over an extra change of clothes to sleep over in. Like a daily routine, you would pry Sollux off of his keyboard again and dump him into his side of the coon before going to your own. 

Sometimes you would wake up early with the moonlight searing off your optic nerves, too groggy for thought, and

see...

Well, you would see him.

That bastard passed out on the other side of the coon, lanky arms splayed out over the edge dripping fuckawful bright red sopor onto the floor. (He never bothers to clean up the stains.) With his ears drooping low and relaxed, glasses off; It's during those times you take a look at his face, relaxed and idle, and secretly compare your eyebags while wondering what it would be like if you could just reach out, ever so gentle, and cup his cheek with your hand. Predictably, he snores, and following those times you withdraw and sink back into the sopor on your side of the coon. (Since when did it become _your_ side?) Every single time, you fail to go back to sleep.

Rinse and repeat. 

You glance down at your hand. The bleeding's mostly stopped now, leaving some crusted blood down your hand and on the floor. It's not like you could wipe it off anywhere without causing an even greater mess than usual.

It's so quiet. Where the fuck is Sollux?

Maybe he left.

A bee bumbles over in a groggy greeting, nudging against your chin. It's… calming, in a sense.

Everything looks as it should be. Honeycombs lining the walls, bees flitting to and fro from their egotistical abode. A single table in the center of it all framed by two worn beanbags wearing holes onto the floor, with wires tangled across it because a certain _someone_ doesn't know how to organize in ways other than couplets. 

But on the corner of the table, there's a shining streak of blood that reminds you how much you don't belong in this world.

You know, maybe you should just leave. Sollux is probably sitting in his respiteblock somewhere, waiting for you to leave so that he can forget you ever existed as a blemish in his life. Worse, he could be phoning in- no, no, he wouldn't. He's still a mutant as well, albeit a more socially acceptable (i.e. useful) one.

Still, you're better off not making his life any harder than it has to be. 

The bee is still nudging you in the chin. Well, aren't you just a daft winged bastard. Hah. Bees.

_According to all known rules of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Seeing as the bee flies anyway, it is inherently blasphemous to the Almighty HIC, Her Imperial Condescension, and deserves to die. When the bee is not dead, it spends its entire life as a worker to the goldbloods, who in turn will eventually reach the sweep where they will serve an honorable life as a power source for the HIC's imperial ships._

With a gentle flick of your thumb, you redirect it off and away. You stand up, breathing a silent goodbye.

He doesn't need to be burdened by you anymore.

"KK, where the fuck are you going." 

Uh. Fuck. That sure is an entrance that just happened. Talk about shitty timing.

"I'm getting out of your horns?" Great, just when you had felt so certain about leaving, here you are, sounding like a wriggler that had just been caught with one claw on the nutrition plateau. Sollux sighs.

"Hoofbeastshit. Sit back down, idiot." 

"No."

"KK, you're bleeding." _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck shit fuck say it's grubsauce and leave just go fucking say it-_

"No I'm not." Holy shit, you're useless.

Sollux gawks. "What- are you seriously fucking kidding me right now? Don't make me make you sit down."

"Fuck you." Wow, your verbal prowess is amazing. Good job at ruining everything yet again, you.

True to his (infuriating) word, a crackle of psiionics pushes you over onto the beanbag and forces your cut hand open. You don't want to see this; you look away. 

"Really, KK, stop acting like such a shitwailing wriggler. I'm gone for a few minutes and you're already acting like I'm going to sell you out like a good little asshat bootlicker who sold their common sense over to the imperial rule."

Shifting over your gaze, you notice he's holding a small first aid kit, carefully dabbing some antiseptic onto a piece of toilet paper. Oh. 

He's.

He's not- oh.

He's taking care of you.

With a piece of scrunched up tissue that you use to wipe your asshole with. Jegus fuck.

All at once, it feels like reality is rushing back in, grounding you to the situation.

Your name is Karkat Vantas. You are eight and a half sweeps old. Like a prokaryotic dumbass, you cut yourself open on the corner of a table, and are currently freaking out about being abandoned and rejected by anyone who discovers that you are a living sin. Sollux Captor is your best friend (and to you, a little bit more). He is currently cleaning your cut while swearing under his breath, because he would do no such thing. He's risking his entire life to help you. 

And if this situation were switched, you're certain you would do the same.

Sollux shakes his head, tsk-ing in faux shame. "What do you take me for, an idiot?" He starts to dab the tissue onto your palm, and you can feel the psii slowly dissolving around you.

"No, you're not an idiot," you admit. "A certified asshole, however, is another thing I'll have to consider-OW!" _Fuck_ , he _definitely_ rubbed too hard on purpose. Sollux snickers. He definitely did.

You kick out, earning yourself an _oof_ and the smack of psiionics onto your horns.

"That fucking _hurt_ , you colossal shithead," you complain.

"Oh no, see how much I care-"

"Gargle my bulge and shameglobes-"

"I would rather _die."_

"I would rather spend the rest of my miserable life in your company, and I mean that in the worst way comprehensible-"

"Yeah, yeah, go shit out a spade already and get it over with."

"I can't _do_ that if you're clutching my hand like Alternia's next top paleslut douchebag!"

"Alright." Sollux lets go, arms up in fake innocence.

You two enter a dead stare, daring each other to make the next move.

You refuse to admit defeat.

You refuse.

You _refuse._

_You refuse._

_You_ **_fucking_ ** _refu-_

"UGH, _FINE_." You groan, hiding your face in the sleeve of your sweater. Sollux laughs again.

"Thought so. Now give me your disgusting hand again, loser. I'm not done."

Continuing to hide your oncoming blush into your sweater, you reluctantly place your hand back in his again. You try to hold yourself back from saying anything else, for your own sake. Maybe the silence would be good for once. Unfortunately, you’re only one of two wordy hornfondlers. 

Sollux resumes dabbing at your wound, sighing. "I already knew about your blood sweeps ago, dumbass. You always insist on sleeping in the blue side of my coon and your hive is decorated like you’re just waiting to turn stump frond and abandon it anytime. It’s not that hard to piece it together.”

...Oh. Oh, _fuck._ If Sollux could figure it out, who else has? Who figured it out?

Who _knows?_

“While we’re at this excruciating topic, Terezi knows too. She says she can taste our blood colors through the screen, which is all kinds of freaky. I don’t know how that works, but I don’t care that much to nag her about it.” He pauses, leveling a look at you that makes you feel like you’re wearing far too little clothing. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck-

More importantly, who will _tell?_

You don’t like this- this unfamiliar feeling. You’re _exposed._

Sweeps spent in hiding, protecting your skin and wearing long sleeves like they would offer the smallest semblance of armor, and yet this exact moment is telling you that you might not have been as careful as you thought.

Danger’s fear looms up behind you like a noose. Your palm stings with the pain of injury and shame.

In Sollux’s attempted nonchalance-“Nobody gives a shit about the mutant stuff, KK. Stop worrying about it.”

Stop worrying? Stop _fucking_ WORRYING?? 

Sollux sits up straight, eyebrows drawn up in surprise. 

You might have yelled some of that. 

You- he- fucking

_Fuck, there is so_ ** _much_** and its all rushing upwards to bubble up inside your pan until you can’t think about _anything_ _else_. 

Before you know it, you’re leaning forward, jabbing your free hand into his chest.

“WOW, _SURE_ , sollux, let me just flip the magical switch in my pan that will make me suddenly stop worrying about something that has haunted every second of my miserable existence! What a fucking easy solution to something I am permanently in risk of _dying_ multiple times over- quick, let’s call the juggalos over right now, I’m sure they’ll all be fucking _thrilled_ at the prospect of this _phantasmal_ miracle!”

Sollux immediately recoils in irritation before rolling his eyes, waving one hand around in mock shock. “Wow. My deepest apologies to your solely oppressed ass. Guess I just forgot that you could be killed for this shit, you know, like how I forgot that my future is rooted in functioning as a battery in exquisite torture for the rest of my life.”

“Oh _please,_ as if I’m so bonepanned I somehow forgot about that in the span of a wipe! What pisses _me_ off about this is how _you_ just fucking think that you can continue risking your life around me just because you’re going to have a miserable death anyways!” Your eyes start to water. 

“Oh no, poor Sollux is going to die. Guess he’ll just keep hanging around a shining kill beacon, being reckless just because Karkat’s so pathetic he can’t help but ignorantly slather his blood color all over his words, more more pity him in the most undesirable way possible.” Instinctively, you take the neck of your sweater and hold it to end of your eyelid, absorbing any tears that threaten to fall. Better to dry them before they have a chance to show. 

“I’m a jinx, okay? It’s only a matter of time before someone else lets the meowbeast out of the deathsack and I end up with a trident through my abdomen, dragging down anyone who was ever associated with me.”

You choke down the last of your tears. “These are my own miserable choices in this putrid existence. Don’t burden yourself by making them your own.”

“Shut up.” Sollux snaps. 

You-

“No! I don’t want to hear another fucking word coming out of your flap until you finally understand that I’m _not going to leave you._ ”

Fuck not talking. “Stop risking yourself for me, you incongruous bastard! You-”

“-are _so_ fucking _infuriating_ ! I don’t _want_ you gone, okay?” Sollux throws his hand out, hissing. “What does it take to pummel into your thinkpan that I might actually _care_ about you disregarding any outside influences?”

You, uh-

Oh. That’s... a lot to process. You don’t know.

You hold your breath, still in your dissipating anger.

You don’t know.

An indeterminate amount of time later, you’re back hunching over on yourself. That was embarrassing.

Sollux slumps. “Look, KK. Me wanting you here doesn’t automatically mean that I want to undertake a secret death wish by hoping that fraternizing with you will bite me in the ass, okay? You have my own issues to deal with, and I have mine. And as aggravating as you are, you’re not a part of it. Dumbass."

You flicker a glance up at his face, back down onto your lap as quickly as it had gone. You think he smiled.

You huff. “You’re a nuisance when you make a reasonable point.”

“I know.” He pats your arm. “You’re done, by the way.”

You grunt in acknowledgement and pull back your hand, freshly bandaged and covered with a black fingerless glove. You flex it around for a bit, opening and closing your fingers. Wiggling them into testing waters.

It’s… wow.

You could almost convince yourself that nothing ever happened.

Fuck, he did all of this for _you?_ After you were a shitall friend who was nothing but a burden for all the sweeps you’ve known him for? What did you do to deserve all of this?

Shitty virus trades, late-morning jabs sent over Trollian, expressions of begrudging sympathy after he video calls you complaining about a particularly insistent migraine, punches to the shoulder that escalate into a full on brawl on the dusty floor, catching each other cheating at grub games, a spare pap to the head when he forgets to hydrate his shriveled husk, night after _night_ spent not necessarily doing something _together_ , but having that comfort knowing he’s with you anyways- 

You, who gave him nothing in return except for your ear and your time.

Sollux is an aggravating, impudent, egotistical asshole who couldn’t pull a shit out of his ass to even pretend that he cares.

But out of everyone you’ve ever met he’s the most generous, caring, loyal bastard of them all.

Another fingerless glove hits you on the forehead and falls onto your lap.

“Symmetry. So you don’t look like any more of a tool than you already are.”

Finally, (finally), you look up. Sollux has his knees drawn up, arms sitting atop them. He rests his head in his left palm, looking at you with a smile.

That’s a smile. He’s trying to hide it, masking it as a smirk or something of equal irritation, but _you know._ _You know_ him. That is _definitely_ a fucking smile.

You gingerly take the glove with your left hand. 

And you fucking _launch_ yourself at Sollux, the two of you nearly toppling back onto the floor if not for a net of psiionics suspending the both of you mid-fall. You tuck your face into his shoulder and wrap your arms around his torso and squeeze tight, like you could show your gratitude if you just got close enough to. 

Sollux wheezes, “Fuck, KK, care to give me a warning next time you try to slam both of our pans back down onto the floor?”

Hooking your chin over his shoulder and knocking him with your horn, you tug the second glove onto your other hand. Sollux drapes his arms over your shoulders. 

“Never. Better be on fucking watch for the rest of your life, nubslurper. You’re about to get periodically clobbered every perigee for your insolence and idiocy.”

Sollux drums his claws on your lower back. A playful warning. “Alright, I can understand insolence, but I’m a fucking genius and I don’t need to prove that to you to know it.” 

You squeeze him a bit tighter. (Which, surprisingly enough, proves itself to be pretty difficult, considering there’s nothing much else left to squeeze apart from some extra bones.) 

“You’re an idiot for ever deciding to stay with me. And _don’t_ you _dare_ try to argue otherwise. I’m a nuisance and it’s a mandatory staple to innately know for any troll who has the minimal amount of pan fluids left for them to be able to breathe.”

“Don’t say that.”

“And why, dare I ask, the fuck not?”

“Because it’s not true. At least, for the most part.”

You pinch him. “Alright, what did I _just_ say about trying to argue otherwise? This is live proof that whatever you hear goes into one hearing canal, takes a detour all around your empty thinkpan and passes out the other. Couldn’t you just leave me this sole statement to wallow in like a masochistic mudfuck?” Sollux pinches you back in a clear retort _._ “Like, come on, just one. We can’t all not hate ourselves all of the time.”

Sollux groans, exasperated. “You have no idea how insufferable you are, do you.” _Inthufferable_. 

“I guess that makes for two of us, then,” you quip. Sollux chuckles into your hair. 

You both lapse into a calming silence.

Soon after, the noise inside your thinkpan does the same. 

**== >**

A little over a perigee later, you’re back at Sollux’s hive with your cut fully healed and temporary gloves thankfully revoked, hopefully never to be worn ever again.

Sollux holds one in each hand, gazing at them with a smirk that doesn’t fully reach the fondness in his eyes.

“Dude, I never said I needed them back.”

“What?” You cross your arms. “Oh, _fuck_ you, I’m not going back to making my palms sweat an unreasonable amount anytime in the near or far future.”

“KK, just fucking take them. You’ve probably worn them more than I already have.”

“Eat piss and choke on your gangrenous bulge.”

Sighing, Sollux steps forward and you’re suddenly lifted up into the air with the familiar pull of his psionics. Not restraining you- more like a forced cushion holding you upright so you’re finally face to face. 

Look. Height is a choice, and you’re _perfectly_ fine with where you reach as of now. At least you don’t have to bend your knees in the recuperacoon like the gangly asshole you have right in front of you. 

You can’t mo- oh. Yeah. Smart of him to have the courtesy to give you free reign over your arms.

Sollux gingerly tucks one glove into each of your pockets, leaving his thumbs there to pull you closer. You grip his shirt in one hand and cup his jaw with the other, knocking your head together.

“Sollux, you know fully fucking well that I’m just going to dump these atrocities in your coon the second you aren’t looking. I warned you a multitude of times, and you know what? You had it coming. Today’s the day when I finally start a stockpile of your rejected garbage fashion choices right in the curve of every comfortable loungeplank you have going on in this midst of a beehive, and you’re going to fucking lie in it.”

“You know, I’d feel threatened if that was the first time you said that to me. So sorry to say that it wasn’t the first time.”

You pull back a bit, surprised. You were sure that line was original.

“Really?”

He scoffs. “Yeah, and it wasn’t the third time either.”

Wow. “Fuck, I really need to up my game.”

“It was the second. And yeah, you do. I doubt you’ll show any significant improvement though, heh.” 

Wow, fuck that. You’re definitely going to improve. In fact, you’re going to not only surpass Sollux, but also every other unfortunate grunting ass-scratcher in li-

Wait.

Oh, that bastard. You let out a dry, drawn-out _ha._

“The second, huh? You think you’re so clever.”

“I am clever.”

“Too bad your obsession with duality doesn’t transfer to your genetic code, otherwise you might actually have two fucking braincells to rub together.”

Sollux snorts and leans into your hand. Instinctively (how did that happen?), you stroke his cheek with your thumb.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?”

He leans closer, and you grip his shirt just a little bit tighter.

“Who’s caring?”

“I am, shitbag.”

“What’re you going to do about it?”

“Defenestrate you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Fuck you. Don’t tell me what to do.”

He smiles, wide and genuine and your bloodpusher clenches in the most painful fucking way.

You do something about it.

  


**Author's Note:**

> heya!!! im back again even after i thought my previous fic was gonna be my last but i guess i got pulled into shipping solkat alongside that jdkfsalkfljasdfas karkats pesterquest route am i right  
> on another note writing solkat is surprisingly harder than writing davekat? if you have davekat you have two assholes who talk around everything in such a way that you always get to the point somehow sooner or later but with solkat you only have *karkat* straying away from the subject now. in addition its just hard to write sollux roflmao imagine being a gemini. couldnt be me (its me) (unfortunately)
> 
> anyway thanks for reading!! you can follow me on tumblr/twitter @ notedchampagne and also if you have the time? comments make my entire day id appreciate it a lot lmao  
> thats all hope you enjoyed remember to self care


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